


i abraça'm fort amb l'excusa d'algun gol

by pineaple



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-09 01:19:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3230795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pineaple/pseuds/pineaple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe Barcelona was their city to fall in love, with it's colors and people and air and the places Marc knew could make them feel okay, but they wasted it all with indecisions and trembling hands every time they touched.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i abraça'm fort amb l'excusa d'algun gol

**Author's Note:**

> So I was having a major block and I kind of force myself to wite this so the quality might not be the best and it might have some mistakes that I will correct later, anyways I hope you like it :)

Barcelona and everything that it involved, was everything Marc knew. Maybe he should have known better that this was it. It was attraction and arousal and that feeling of comfort whenever he was around Neymar. Maybe Barcelona was their city to fall in love, with it's colors and people and air and the places Marc knew could make them feel okay, but they wasted it all with indecisions and trembling hands every time they touched, insecurities flooded them before the game and the way their hands would brush every now and then before a game, maybe that was it, maybe first experiences should be left to teenagers who shared a party and some drinks and knew how to ignore the other after a mess they had created and regretted; the work relationship that they held was to strong to ignore the feelings that they created. 

The first time was something more than a stare that lasted to long or hands brushing, it was a goodbye kiss that maybe was to affectionate or a smile that implied another thing. Doubts were there, every time they saw each other, there were doubts that soon were vanished by Neymar's dark hair overshadowing the stars on the sky making Marc's time to stop and just wanting to fell him and to take a sip of his venom, drowning in Neymar's sea of doubts because he had come to feel he had none left when they where so close.  
Hands on cold thighs and hungry kisses under the red sky of a sunset, hands roaming everywhere and their minds going around the fact that they both taught it was going to be an uneventful day but there they were kissing each other thoroughly, tasting and exploring with their tongues. And then Neymar and his beautiful self, he would kiss around the column of Marc's neck to make violet his new color. He went down almost like a professional, Marc thought, and maybe he was, maybe his little dirty secret was this, to be the worst kind of killer with his teeth and a mouth that could work magic over Marc shaft making him wish any of that was holly. 

Their doubts disappeared as the weeks passed and Neymar now was able to make Marcs legs fall open like the red sea and to savor him, to make Marc take every one of the breaths that he gave him as if it was his last. 

They soon became professionals, pretending they were friends and then sneaking out to have their private moment, where moans were what they needed. All of those stuff that seemed morally wrong and reckless that made hem feel certain kind of regret disappeared into their mouths and their passion until they felt nothing and the love was drown out of their bodies or so they thought. 

Marc felt more and more deeply than Neymar and the complexity of their actions was making him restless and obsessed with their future when in reality he was the one who was completely hung up on the Brazilian and his smile and gentle touches and Marc knew that he would go, without hesitation, to were Neymar wanted and that he wanted to be confused with his shadow and mixed as if their were one. 

In the last weeks Marc's look got raw whenever Neymar was not with him, and things needed to end immediately or it would kill them. And it seemed amazing to Marc how Neymar could make him feel so alive but kill him inside at the same time. Love was odd in every way making them feel sick to their bones and the only medicine was the other.  
They tried to fixed it of course, Marc always thought that a little rumba, a dinner and some kisses could fix everything but not in this case were problems were buried six feet under with their previous selves. 

It tore them apart on the most wonderful of ways, wishing they had never met, but Marc knew better that Neymar would have him forever no matter what and that they would became professionals in hiding the distance that had appear between them, just as they had become professionals in hiding their feelings. 

Just the way it started, it ended, with doubts and that something, that they couldn't put a name on bothering them. Marc knew that they would be happy anyways playing together and he just ask for one thing from Neymar, he just wanted him to hold him when they knew they felt lonely and in the need of the other, and even if it was with the excuse of a goal, in their minds their were holding each other as they used to do all those long nights were love was still alive.


End file.
